


Can You Help Me?

by hullosweetpea



Series: Writing Prompt Wednesday [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, No Sex, Wing Kink, Writing Prompt Wednesday, molting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5392913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hullosweetpea/pseuds/hullosweetpea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has gone into molt and he turns to the only person he trusts. Writing Prompt Wednesday (For the week of 11/25)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can You Help Me?

**Author's Note:**

> This week was Wing!Kink, and sorry, this will not contain hot Destiel times. (I know I’m sad too, but it would be awkward.) This was the prompt I chose: Okay, seriously, this is the most mortifying thing I’ve ever had to ask you but I’m molting and my arms aren’t long enough to reach my wings myself and I really, really need help, and just…you’re the only one here…please? 
> 
> I love any stories where Cas molts. It’s about time I tried my hand.

Can You Help Me?

 

Dean had found the first feather in the bunker’s kitchen that morning. The feather was long and grey, but with a few streaks of black in it. He picked it up and held it gently, turning it over in between his fingers. He carried it with him out of the kitchen, confused by its appearance. He opened the door to his room and saw Castiel sitting on his bed wrapped tightly in a blanket. From the doorway to the bed lay three smaller feathers. “Um, Cas…what are you doing in my room?”

 

He blushed and pulled the blanket closer to his body. “I…I couldn’t go to anyone else and you’re the only one I trust.”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow. “What about Sam?”

 

Castiel shook his head. “No. Well, I mean I could, but…you’re really my only option.”

 

He walked over and sat down next to Castiel. He flinched and scooted away just a bit, a slightly pained look on his face. Dean felt awkward and pulled his arms in a bit closer to his body to put a bit more space between him and Castiel. “So…what is it?”

 

Castiel sighed next to him. “It might be best if I just showed you.”

 

Dean frowned. “Show me wha…”

 

He let the blanket fall from his shoulders to reveal the secret hidden underneath. They were large and intimidating, casting shadows across the bed. On a second look, Dean noticed the gaps and even the stray feathers that had stuck to the blanket. Castile cleared his throat. “I, um, could use a little help. I can’t reach some of my feathers and…I trust you.”

 

Dean stared at Castiel’s wings as the draped themselves on his mattress, taking up quite a bit of space. How he hid them under the blanket he would never know. “Cas, are you sure? Aren’t angel wings sacred or something?”

 

Cas turned his head and half tugged the blanket back around himself. “I shouldn’t have asked you. I’m sorry; I’ve just made it awkward.”

 

“No, you’re fine. It’s just….I don’t want to ruin anything.” Dean stared at the exposed part of his wings again. The feather he had picked up that morning had been soft. Maybe the others would be just as soft.

 

He looked over at him, before gently lowering the blanket again. “I just need you to comb your fingers through them. Don’t tug too hard and don’t be freaked out if any fall.” Dean scooted in closer. “And Dean?” He looked up at Castiel and saw a bit of apprehension in his eyes. “Thank you.”

 

“Um, yeah.” Dean cleared his throat. “No problem.” He scooted himself so he was situated behind Castiel and for the first time was looking head on at his wings. It was also when it finally clicked in his brain that Castiel was shirtless. The wings seemed so abnormal on something so… _human_ , but they appeared seamless on his back as if they had always been there.

 

He let his fingers hover over the top feathers before he let his fingers glide through them and they were as soft as he thought they would be. He smiled and let his fingers trail at the undersides, smoothing them down, but still keeping them in neat rows. He worked through them slowly, letting his hands go lower and lower down Castiel’s back. As he reached the end of the first wing he heard it, just a slight hitch in Castiel’s breathing. “Cas…are you okay?”

 

“Yes Dean, I’m fine.” He wiggled a bit and his wings flapped a bit, landing themselves in Dean’s lap.

 

Dean moved around them and moved to balance himself on his knees as he began work on the other wing. “How come I can see your wings now? Why not before?”

 

“Wings are…complicated at best. Most angels conceal their wings with their grace so as to blend in with humans. In Heaven, when not in any danger, most angels keep their wings out in the open.”

 

“So why now? Doesn’t it ruin the whole ‘human’ thing?”

 

Castiel tensed under his touch. “When angels molt, it takes a great amount of grace to properly do so, especially if the angel has been injured. Angels from a young age are advised to leave their wings out so they have more grace to use if necessary.”

 

Dean continued to stroke his fingers mindlessly through one section of Castiel’s wing. Not too hard, just repetitively and easy. “Doesn’t that make the angel vulnerable?”

 

“Very.”

 

Dean let the weight of the statement fall on his shoulders. “Cas…are you sure you want me doing this?”

 

“I trust you Dean.”

 

“I know, but,” he pulled his hands out of his feathers. “I don’t think I’m the one for the job. I’ve already gotten the ones on the top. Do you think you can manage the ones at the bottom?”

 

Castiel carefully angled his body so he was facing Dean. “In angel culture, we only let those we trust aid us through our molt. I wouldn’t have let you near them if I didn’t think I could trust you.”  

 

Dean looked into Castiel’s pleading blue eyes, the apprehension gone from them now, and knew he wouldn’t win. “Okay, I’m almost done anyway.” He let his fingers card gently through the rest of his feathers, a small hitch of breath or moan the only thing escaping his lips. Dean was breathing heavy by the time he finished. “There, I think I’ve done the best I can do.”

 

Castiel stood up and walked over to the mirror and looked at this wings in them. “They’re good for now.” He walked back over to Dean’s bed. “If you don’t mind too much I’ll need you to help me at least one more time.”

 

Dean absent mindedly let his hand sink into Castiel’s plumage. “I don’t mind. Not at all.” His other hand sunk up into Castiel’s other wing and before he knew it he had a lap full of Angel of the Lord. Their lips clashed together and everything Dean hadn’t said and kept inside was put into that kiss. His hands roaming in Castiel’s wings and the deeper his fingers dug, the louder Castiel moaned.

 

“Dean, I can’t, not now.” Castiel looked down at him mournfully. “I have to rest. Molting is a tiring process.”

 

Dean gently pushed Castiel down into the memory foam with a love filled smile. “Then rest here. I’ll keep you safe.”

 

Castiel spread his wings out, knocking a few things over that Dean had placed on his night stand. He didn’t mind though. He fell asleep with his fingers lovingly combing themselves through Castiel’s wings and said angel’s head on his chest.

 

 


End file.
